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THE MISSING PRINCE
By G. E. Farrow
Author Of “The Wallypug Of Why” And “The King’s Gardens.”
With Page Illustrations By Harry Furniss
And Vignettes By Dorothy Furniss
1886
[Illustration: 0001]
[Illustration: 0006]
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Dedicated To
My Little Friend
Ralph Cyril Lockhart Brandon.
Known As “Boy.”
[Illustration: 0011]
|MY DEAR LITTLE FRIENDS,--
In the Preface to my last book I told you that when I closed my eyes I
seemed to see hundreds of dear Children’s faces turned towards me asking
for a story; and now, as so many copies of that book have been sold, I
am bound to believe that not hundreds, but thousands, of little friends,
to whom I was this time last year a stranger, are expecting another
story from my pen.
Some of you may perhaps have seen the very kind things which so many of
the papers said about “The Wallypug of Why.” Now I am going to tell you
a secret, even at the risk of seeming ungrateful to them. It is this.
Much as I value their kind opinion, and proud and happy as I am that
my book has met with their approval, I value your criticism even more
highly than theirs, and I am going to ask you to do me a great favour. I
have had so many letters from little friends about “The Wallypug of Why”
that it has made me greedy, and, like Oliver, I want more. So will you
please write me a letter too, your very own self, telling me just what
you think of these two books, and also what kind of story you want after
my next one, which is to be a School story, called “Schooldays at St.
Vedast’s,” and which will be published almost as soon as this one is?
I did think of writing a story about pet animals, for I am very fond
of them; so if you can tell me anything interesting about your dogs
or cats, rabbits, or other favourites, I may perhaps find room for the
account in my book. You can always address letters to me in this way,
and then they will be sure to reach me wherever I am:--
``"Mr. G. E. Farrow,
`"C/o Messrs. Hutchinson & Co.,
``"Publishers,
```"34, Paternoster Row,
````"London, E.C."=
Besides being a very great pleasure to me to receive these letters from
you, it will help you, I hope, to feel that the Author of this book is
in a measure a personal friend.
You will be pleased, I am sure, to see that Mr. Harry Furniss has again
been able to give us some of his delightful pictures, and that his
clever little daughter Dorothy has helped him.
I see that she has drawn, at the beginning of this Preface, some little
folks with letters in their hands. I hope that they are for me, and that
there are some from you amongst them.
```Your affectionate Friend,
````The Author.
[Illustration: 0017]
THE MISSING PRINCE.
CHAPTER I.--PIERROT AND THE MOON.
[Illustration: 9019]
OY was far too excited to go to sleep, so he lay gazing at the crescent
Moon which shone through the window opposite his bed and thought of all
the wonderful things which had happened on this most eventful of days.
To begin quite at the beginning, he had, in his thoughts, to go right
back to yesterday, when he had been sent to bed in the middle of
the day, so that he might be rested for his long night journey to
Scarborough with his Uncle. Then after having been asleep all the
afternoon, he had been awakened in the evening just about the time when
he usually went to bed, and, treat of treats, had been allowed to sit up
to the table to late dinner with his Aunt and Uncle.
Soon after dinner they had started for their long drive to the Station
through the brightly lighted streets which Boy had never before seen at
night time, and when at last King’s Cross Station was reached, they
had been hurried into a carriage with rugs and pillows and were soon
steaming through the suburbs of London.
Boy had found plenty of amusement in watching the flashing lights out
of the window till, as the train got further and further away from the
town, the lights became fewer and fewer, and he drew the curtain and
settled himself comfortably in a corner with a pillow and a rug.
His Uncle was deeply buried in his paper, and Boy did not like to
disturb him, so he picked up _Punch_, which had fallen to the floor,
and began to look at the pictures. He must have fallen asleep soon
afterwards, for he did not remember anything else till they reached
York, where they had to change trains, and where they had hot coffee and
sandwiches. Then when the train started again Boy’s Uncle had pointed
out to him the square towers of York Minster showing clearly against
the green and gold sky of early morning; and then Boy had gone to
sleep again and did not wake up till they reached Scarborough, where
a carriage was waiting to take them to the Hotel. Boy looked about him
with great interest as they drove through the half-deserted streets, for
it was still very early in the morning. He could see the ruins of an
old castle at the end of the street, and as they turned a corner the sea
flashing in the morning sunlight burst into view.
Boy thought that he had never before seen anything so beautiful. There
was the great bay with the castle at one end and Oliver’s Mount at the
other, the quay and the little lighthouse, and a lot of ships, while out
at sea was a whole fleet of brown sailed fishing-smacks coming in with
their spoil of fish. Hundreds of sea-gulls were wheeling round and
round uttering their peculiarly shrill cry, and altogether it was a most
beautiful sight.
Boy’s Uncle had stopped the carriage for a few moments so that they
might admire it, and then they had driven to the Hotel at the top of the
cliffs, and after having a refreshing wash had gone down to a large room
where a number of ladies and gentlemen were having breakfast Boy had
been far too excited to eat much, particularly as his Uncle had promised
him a pony ride at eleven. So as soon as breakfast was over he had stood
by the window watching the people passing, till oh! joy of joys! there
came to the door of the Hotel the loveliest little pony with such a long
tail and mane and his Uncle’s big chestnut horse Rajah, which had been
sent down by train the day before.
What a delightful time it had been, to be sure, as they rode down
through the Valley Park to the seashore, and what a splendid canter they
had on the hard sand! And then as they rode slowly back again Boy had
noticed some beautiful sand castles which the children were building on
the shore, collecting pennies in boxes for the hospitals from those
who stopped to admire them; lovely castles with flags and trees and toy
animals out of Noah’s Ark, and quaint little rustic bridges and garden
seats in the gardens belonging to them, and Boy had thought how jolly it
would be if one could be small enough to walk about in them. Then he
had heard some one singing, and his Uncle had taken him to where a
large crowd was gathered around some curiously dressed people in white
costumes with big black buttons and with big frills around their necks
and at their wrists; they wore black skull caps with white conical caps
over these. They were called, so Boy found out, the Pierrot Troupe, and
one of them was singing about a little Tin Soldier who was in love with
a beautiful Doll with eyes that opened and shut with a wire, but
who would not have anything to say to him because he was only marked
_one-and-nine_, while another soldier on the shelf above him was marked
_two-and-three_, till presently some one changed the labels and marked
him two-and-three, and the other one one-and-nine. Then the little Doll
had altered her mind, and had promised to marry him, and had forsaken
the other poor fellow, who was now marked only one-and-nine. Boy was
very much amused at the song, but felt very sorry for poor one-and-nine,
and kept talking about it all the way back to the Hotel as they went
back to luncheon, which was of course Boy’s dinner.
In the afternoon they had gone for a lovely drive in an open carriage
all through the beautiful Forge Valley, and then after tea Boy had
been taken to the Spa to hear the band play; and now after all these
wonderful treats he was lying, as I said before, wide awake in his
little strange bed watching the Moon through the half-open window.
What a big Moon it was, to be sure--quite the largest Boy had ever seen,
he thought, and surely, yes, surely there is some one sitting in it
playing upon a banjo! Why, it’s Pierrot! and the Moon is coming nearer
and nearer till Boy can hear that he is still singing about the little
Tin Soldier. In a great state of excitement Boy sat up in bed.
“I wonder if he is coming here,” he thought, as he watched eagerly. Yes!
closer and closer came the Moon, till presently Pierrot stepped on to
the window-sill and, pushing the window further open, jumped lightly on
to the floor and made Boy a polite bow.
“I’ve brought you an invitation,” he said, “to the wedding festivities
in connection with the little Tin Soldier’s marriage with the
Dolly-girl”; and he handed Boy a large envelope with a red seal.
[Illustration: 0025]
“Oh! _how_ kind of you!” said Boy, forgetting even his surprise in the
delight of receiving such a novel invitation. He hastily opened the
envelope and found a card within bearing the following words:--
“Mr. and Mrs. Waxxe-Doll request the pleasure of Master Boy’s company at
the wedding festivities celebrating the marriage between their daughter,
Miss Dolly-girl, and Captain Two-and-Three, Royal Tin Hussars.
````"R.S.V.P.
“Sand Castle,
“The Shore, Scarborough.”
“How splendid!” said Boy. “Can you please tell me, sir, what R.S.V.P.
means? I’ve seen it on invitation cards before?”
“I am not quite certain,” replied Pierrot; “but in this case I think
it must mean Ridiculous Society and Violent Papa. You see, being a toy
wedding, they are obliged by toy etiquette to ask all the articles on
the same shelf as the bride and bridegroom, and so the company is bound
to be rather mixed, and the bride’s father is afflicted with the most
violent temper you have ever heard of.”
“Dear me!” said Boy, “perhaps I had better not go.”
“Oh, it will be all right,” said Pierrot. “Whenever he feels his temper
getting the better of him he very wisely shuts himself up in a room by
himself till it’s all over, so you need not be in the least afraid. But,
I say, we had better be starting, you know; it’s getting rather late.”
[Illustration: 0028]
Boy hurriedly dressed himself, and taking Pierrot’s hand he stepped
from the window-sill into the Moon, which was conveniently close to the
window. It was very much like a boat, Boy thought, as he sat down and
made himself comfortable on one of the little cushioned seats which
stretched from one side of the Moon to the other. They had only floated
a very little way down the street, however, when the Moon began to
descend and then stopped, just at the top of the long flight of steps
near the Spa, which led to the seashore. Pierrot jumped out, and, after
helping Boy to alight, told him that at the bottom of the steps he would
find somebody waiting to conduct him to Sand Castle.
“Aren’t you coming too?” asked Boy in surprise.
“No,” replied Pierrot, “we must be off, the Moon and I, or people will
wonder what has become of us. Goodbye!” and getting into the Moon again
he was soon floating rapidly away.
Boy was somewhat alarmed at his sudden disappearance, and felt half
inclined to run back to the Hotel. “Perhaps I had better go down to the
bottom of the steps, though,” he thought, “and see who is there;” and
he had got half way down when he suddenly stopped in dismay. Why, he was
growing shorter! There could be no doubt about it. He could see to his
great surprise that he was only about half as tall as he had been when
he started running down the steps.
Whatever should he do? Boy now felt really alarmed. Why, if he went on
at that rate there would soon be nothing at all left of him.
“What’s the matter, sonny?” said a tiny voice near him.
Boy looked around, but could see no one.
“What’s the matter, I say?” said the voice again.
“I’m sure I don’t know,” said Boy, who thought that it was only polite
to speak when spoken to, even although he could not see the speaker. “I
am growing smaller and smaller, and I don’t know whatever to do.”
“Well, my little man,” said the voice, “you are going to the toy party,
aren’t you? How do you expect to get into Sand Castle the ridiculous
size that you are at present? You will keep on getting smaller and
smaller each step you take till you reach the bottom, when you will be
the respectable height of six inches or so.”
“Six inches!” exclaimed Boy. “Oh dear! oh dear! What a tiny mite I shall
be, to be sure, and I did so want to be big like Uncle!”
“Do you call six inches small?” said the voice. “Why, I am twenty times
as small as that.”
“Are you really? No wonder I can’t see you, then,” remarked Boy. “I
should think it isn’t very nice to be so insignificant as that, is it?”
[Illustration: 9030]
A sudden pain in his arm made him shout “Oh!” and while he was wondering
whatever could have caused it, he heard the voice repeating these
words:--=
``"You need not think because I’m small
```That I’ve no reputation,
``I do not hesitate to say
```I’m known throughout the nation.=
``"By every lady in the land
```I’m held in high esteem,
``The strongest men require my aid,
```However weak I seem.=
``"And even you must fain admit
```That I’m both _sharp_ and _bright_,
``And probably will want my help
```Yourself before to-night.=
``"So don’t attempt to ‘sit’ on me,
```'Twould not be wise of you.
``'My name?’ An ordinary Pin.
```_D’ye see the point?_ Adieu."=
“Good gracious!” exclaimed Boy; “just fancy a pin talking to one! I
wonder whatever will happen next. Well, I certainly _felt_ the point if
I didn’t see it,” he continued, rubbing his arm and hurrying down the
steps, for he didn’t so much mind now he really knew what to expect
about his size.